


Daryl

by aneurysmface



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, No established relationship, One sided, Solo, just a fantasy of Daryl's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 04:22:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/781727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aneurysmface/pseuds/aneurysmface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Merry Month of Masturbation. Daryl, solo, in the watch tower.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daryl

Daryl sat in the guard tower, halfway through his shift on watch, bored out of his skull and sweating worse than a sinner in church.

It was hot. The thermometer they'd tacked up in the tower said 90 and it was still climbing. Daryl had shed his shirt and was wearing mesh shorts instead of his usual jeans. He prayed for a breeze.

He scanned the tree line again. Still nothing. With the Woodbury folks willing to at least chip in and work to make the prison more secure (even if they weren't doing much to support themselves otherwise), they'd fixed most of the damage that had been done. Once again, it was highly unlikely that any walker would be making its way inside the fence. Daryl dropped his hand to his lap, his thumb idly stroking across the head of his cock through the silky mesh.

 _'Why the fuck not?'_ He thought and slipped his hand below the band, wrapping it around his cock and starting to stroke. He closed his eyes, trusting that if anything went wrong, he'd hear it in time to help.

His first few strokes were tentative; it had been a long time since he'd had enough privacy to do this, since he'd felt the _need_ to do this. He was hard after a few minutes, his mind drifting through the members of the group now.

Carol was too much like a sister to him and Beth was too young. Maggie was good enough, but something felt wrong getting off to the idea of his friend's girl. Michonne was too much a kindred spirit and most of the Woodbury women were either too old for his taste or too innocent. Daryl liked people who were rough, who had seen life, who were strong and could take control.

Daryl's mind settled on Rick and he groaned at the idea. Rick on top of him, pinning Daryl's wrists with one hand and reaching the other down to jack him off. Daryl's grip tightened.

He imagined Rick's stubble dragging across his skin, leaving a mark so everybody else would know. That Daryl was _Rick's_. He imagined how Rick's hand would tighten on the upstroke, how he would lean in to kiss Daryl, bite on his lower lip and _claim_ him.

Daryl's head titled back and _thumped_ against the glass. His strokes quickened and his hips pushed up into his hand more insistently. He imagined that Rick would hold him on the edge like he was now, refuse to let him come until Rick damn well felt like it.

“ _Please_.” Daryl said, hardly aware he had said it aloud. The Rick he was imagining leaned in and bit lightly at the hinge of Daryl's jaw and whispered “now” in Daryl's ear.

Daryl whispered Rick's name as he came, thick ropes of come landing on his slick stomach. He took a moment to just breathe, to regain some measure of composure before he cleaned himself up as best he could with his shirt. When he looked back out at the yard, it was just as quiet as it had been.

When he looked over at the door into the tower, he could have sworn he'd left it shut.


End file.
